


System

by ceedeeandco (Scedasticity)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Comment Fic, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Sam Winchester's Demonic Powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2013-01-05
Packaged: 2017-11-23 19:08:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/625571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scedasticity/pseuds/ceedeeandco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's powers come back. Then they go away. Then they come back again. Then they go away again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	System

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to another prompt of rokhal's at another ohsam comment fic thread:
> 
>  
> 
> _Future!fic or curtain!fic or something. Sam's powers come back. Then they go away. Then they come back again. Then they go away again. Back and forth, at odd intervals, rarely in exactly the same ways, forever -- like lupus flare-ups. Unless there's demon blood involved, they're painful, useless, and an all around massive pain in the tookus._
> 
>  
> 
> _Sam is frustrated that he keeps getting bouts of migraines for weeks at a time while he gets orbed out of digital photographs or commands cockroaches or involuntarily burns the socks off his feet, and Dean reassures him that it's okay, by bringing him ice packs and making fun of him._

They have a system.

Between twelve and twenty-four hours before a flare-up, Sam always gets blinding, disabling headaches. The only medication to make a dent in it knocks him out flat, so they have an argument about whether he should take it. Sam says he won't be aware of what's going on and won't realize if something bad's happening, like the time he finally woke up with every squirrel in a five hundred-foot radius crowded into his room staring at him adoringly, and what if that had been one of the pyrokinetic times? Dean says being aware of what's going on is his job, that the squirrel thing was one time three years ago, he promises to defend Sam's virtue from rodents, and he won't be able to get everything ready if he's worrying about Sam twitching in pain. Dean wins. Sam takes the pills and lies down on the couch, and Dean sets a timer for six hours -- it usually takes a while to get Sam down, and he doesn't want to set it for too long.

Dean makes up two batches of Jello and puts them in the fridge to set. Quick shower, if he has any gel in his hair.

He changes their voice mail message to "we're not available". He gets both their computers, Sam's backup drive, all his cassette tapes, Sam's ipod, Sam's ipad, and the rest of the easily portable electronics, takes them out to the Impala, and drives to the shed at the edge of their sizable property. (Magneto impression=bad for tapes and computers.) He locks everything up, puts a barrel with a GO AWAY sign in the middle of the driveway, and walks back.

Some of the less-portable electronics get lead-lined blankets, like they use when you get X-rayed. They keep out a prepaid cell phone for emergencies. They used to have a cheap crappy desktop, too, but it burst into blue and purple flames last time and Sam insists it's too expensive to replace every time. Dean's waiting for Christmas.

The kitchen knives, hedge clippers, shaving razors, wire cutters, scissors, and other random sharp household implements go into a locked metal cabinet bolted to the floor of the garage. All the glassware and spare ammunition and flammable hair products goes into locked metal cabinets bolted to the floor of the panic room. Actually, most of the spare ammo and the non-everyday glassware is just officially stored in the panic room, now, after the near-disaster last year when Dean forgot about the hand-blown glass beer steins their crazy (seriously, Sam's had a few receptive-telepathy incidents and she thinks the Earth is flat) nearest neighbor gave them.

(Sam initially had the idea that he'd just ride out flare-ups in the panic room, but then it turned out there was a sort of echo chamber effect. Sam might have gone for it anyway, but there was no way it was safe for anyone else to be in there with him, and Dean refused to lock him in there alone, so that was that.)

The doors are closed and latched. Dean still hasn't figured out the best thing to do with the windows -- closing them makes it more likely that they'll break, but he can hardly leave them all open -- but he checks that all the screens are closed and latched. (No more squirrels, dammit. Or bluejays. Or grasshoppers, especially no more grasshoppers.)

Fire extinguishers in good order, but tucked under the coffee table so they're not rolling loose. Tumbling mat on the living room floor, in case of seizures. Dog outside -- or in the garage, if the weather's bad, or upstairs, if the weather's really bad. Water bottles ready. Granola bars ready. Applesauce in a plastic container. Jello in a plastic container. More pills at hand.

If he has more time, he goes through the main level of the house clearing clutter into a laundry hamper, with a lid, he can put in the garage (unless the dog's out there).

When the timer goes off, he sits down next to Sam and waits. He usually has a book (cheap paperback, in case it catches fire), but usually doesn't get much read.

They get through it.


End file.
